Stuck
Yesterday morning I was stuck on the subway for about twenty minutes, in the tunnel, with other people. If I had to rate it, being "stuck on the subway" is only slightly better than "getting stuck in hell with Rush Limbaugh and Heidi and Spencer" (disclaimer: I am not quite sure that I know who Heidi and Spencer are, but there is no doubt in my mind that they are, or will be, in hell. )
My first reaction is not to panic, which for me involves this breathing exercise that I learned in yoga where you press one nostril closed with your thumb and breathe in the other nostril and then release the thumbed down nostril and exhale out of it while shutting the just breathed in nostril with a different finger. And then switch. It's sort of like the breathing version of the pirate patch. What? John told me that pirates wear a patch over one eye so that when there's an attack, they can whip it off and voila! They have night vision. If this isn't true, I will kill him and sell his organs. Or do an organ giveaway on my blog. Hey, my blogaversary is coming up, after all.
Anyway. Back to me.
So I'm doing this exercise and it's relaxing me but it is the Opposite of Relaxing everyone else on the train because I am stealing their oxygen and generally look insane.
And an announcement comes on saying that there are heavy delays because of signal trouble, which is clearly code for "you will all be dead soon, but we don't want to tell you because then you will panic".
Everyone else in the subway car looks not panicked at all. Because they are stupid and don't realize that we are dying. I see that I'm going to have to be the brains of this morning commute.
One part of me thinks that I should tell my fellow passengers what's really going on, the other part of me thinks that I should let them enjoy their remaining few moments on earth and yet a third part of realizes that I have sealed my right nostril with my thumb and have been breathing in and out exclusively out of my left nostril in direct contravention of the yoga protocol and sanitary breathing practices. As I start to hyperventilate over this latest development, the train starts to move. I am liberated.
I milk the story of my heroism for the rest of the day.
Then I pick up my son from school. I am ready to share.
"Guess what happened on the subway today?" I ask him.
"There was a snake!" he says.
"No."
"Someone threw up?"
"No, I was stuck on the train!" I pronounce. He looks disappointed. I'm thinking of adding "with a vomiting snake" but he has the hugest mouth and will tell everyone.
"I was stuck for a really long time," I say, trying to regain the momentum in my mind. "Guess how long?"
"Ten hours?"
An aside: Over the summer, we are doing some intense math shit. So that when I drop him off at school at 9 am and pick him up at 4 pm, he doesn't guess "8 hours".
"No.. twenty minutes."
"That's it?"
"Yes,"
"Did anyone poop?"
"No."
"Oh."
Moral: Don't get stuck on the subway. And if you do, make sure there's a snake there.
My first reaction is not to panic, which for me involves this breathing exercise that I learned in yoga where you press one nostril closed with your thumb and breathe in the other nostril and then release the thumbed down nostril and exhale out of it while shutting the just breathed in nostril with a different finger. And then switch. It's sort of like the breathing version of the pirate patch. What? John told me that pirates wear a patch over one eye so that when there's an attack, they can whip it off and voila! They have night vision. If this isn't true, I will kill him and sell his organs. Or do an organ giveaway on my blog. Hey, my blogaversary is coming up, after all.
Anyway. Back to me.
So I'm doing this exercise and it's relaxing me but it is the Opposite of Relaxing everyone else on the train because I am stealing their oxygen and generally look insane.
And an announcement comes on saying that there are heavy delays because of signal trouble, which is clearly code for "you will all be dead soon, but we don't want to tell you because then you will panic".
Everyone else in the subway car looks not panicked at all. Because they are stupid and don't realize that we are dying. I see that I'm going to have to be the brains of this morning commute.
One part of me thinks that I should tell my fellow passengers what's really going on, the other part of me thinks that I should let them enjoy their remaining few moments on earth and yet a third part of realizes that I have sealed my right nostril with my thumb and have been breathing in and out exclusively out of my left nostril in direct contravention of the yoga protocol and sanitary breathing practices. As I start to hyperventilate over this latest development, the train starts to move. I am liberated.
I milk the story of my heroism for the rest of the day.
Then I pick up my son from school. I am ready to share.
"Guess what happened on the subway today?" I ask him.
"There was a snake!" he says.
"No."
"Someone threw up?"
"No, I was stuck on the train!" I pronounce. He looks disappointed. I'm thinking of adding "with a vomiting snake" but he has the hugest mouth and will tell everyone.
"I was stuck for a really long time," I say, trying to regain the momentum in my mind. "Guess how long?"
"Ten hours?"
An aside: Over the summer, we are doing some intense math shit. So that when I drop him off at school at 9 am and pick him up at 4 pm, he doesn't guess "8 hours".
"No.. twenty minutes."
"That's it?"
"Yes,"
"Did anyone poop?"
"No."
"Oh."
Moral: Don't get stuck on the subway. And if you do, make sure there's a snake there.
27 Comments:
So.. for this organ giveaway.. can I have his spleen? Im not sure what Ill do with it but as far as organ names go.. spleen is kinda cool.
i never even thought of that! i now have to go tell everyone about why pirates wear an eye patch.
just think of what a hero you would be if you had your son doing your advertising!
There was a SNAKE! Um, on the STREET! In front of me as I... bought MILK!
Our lives are so exciting.
And yes, I'm drunk again. Why do you ask?
...or make sure someone shits their pants. And you can describe. Or better, photograph it. For, y'know, posterity. Or prosterity.
That is my nightmare, being stuck on a subway. Add a snake or poop to the mix and I'd be in hell.
There is absolutely nothing like a child for deflating one's sense of drama and panic. Ironic, isn't it?
DId anyone poop????
That cracked me up.
Reminds me of the time a friend sat on a bench on the train and ended up sitting in poop. Not a fun way to start the day.
I have never been to NYC but I am starting to get a little disturbed by what I am reading. Poop in the subway? What next?
I saw a snake exactly once. And it was dead. My children were unimpressed.
I hate riding the metro for that very reason - I dread getting stuck on it. Glad it was a relatively short time, and glad there no snakes or pooping people.
Does it make you feel better to know my reaction is TWENTY MINUTES?!?!? HOLY SHIT!!! Seriously, a few months after 9/11, my bus was stuck in the Lincoln Tunnel for 20 minutes due to a bomb scare at the Transit Authority. Holy crap...I think I knocked myself out cold from hyperventilating. Ok, it may have not been a few days after...maybe a year...but still "post" so I don't think the timing really reduces the all out panic.
Kids are very hard to impress these days.
I blame Pixar.
"did anyone poop?"
Best comment EVER
i have to say i, too, was disappointed with your story. i was certain you were going to tell us that pirates tried to hijack your subway car, but due to your magical breathing and a whack on their heads with your ever-present vt mini, you were able to thwart their diabolical efforts.
Jaye of Pea-- that totally happened, but I'm saving that story for blog sweeps.
How sad is it that when I read you were stuck on the subway, the first thing I thought was, "COOL!!!"
Yes, I'm a country girl. But I've seen too many horror movies to know that getting stuck on the subway is a VERY BAD THING....except when there's pooping snakes
A pirate walks into a bar and the bartender says, "Hey, I haven't seen you in a while. What happened, you look terrible!"
"What do you mean?" the pirate replies, "I'm fine."
The bartender says, "But what about that wooden leg? You didn't have that before."
"Well," says the pirate, "We were in a battle at sea and a cannon ball hit my leg but the surgeon fixed me up, and I'm fine, really."
"Yeah," says the bartender, "But what about that hook? Last time I saw you, you had both hands."
"Well," says the pirate, "We were in another battle and we boarded the enemy ship. I was in a sword fight and my hand was cut off but the surgeon fixed me up with this hook, and I feel great, really."
"Oh," says the bartender, "What about that eye patch? Last time you were in here you had both eyes."
"Well," says the pirate, "One day when we were at sea, some birds were flying over the ship. I looked up, and one of them shat in my eye."
"So?" replied the bartender, "what happened? You couldn't have lost an eye just from some bird shit!"
"Well," says the pirate, "It was me first day wearin’ the hook."
I hate you so much right now. I'm sitting in the lab and am trying so hard not to laugh. I have to "cough" to let out some laughter without actually laughing out loud. Okay, I'm better now.
Oh and your friend John is right about the eye patch and night vision thing.
I can see how it might sound more heroic to a kid if there were some type of reptile or bodily fluid involved...kids are odd like that. :)
OMG **I** am mortified and terrorized by your story, poop and puke be damned. That is my worst nightmare and the reason I NEVER use the subway. Even on Metro North I'm all "Oh jesus here comes the tunnel - we're gonna get stuck in the tunnel - why are we slowing down - " You are like a superhero for even living in Manhattan.
I don't think you're supposed to let your hands come into contact with your nose when you're on the subway. That's how you get SARS or birdflu or Ebola or something.
I think your son would be impressed by the state of my minivan. We don't have snakes... but have found things growing that would make the subway look clean.
What...no pooping!?!
Not just any snake... a vomiting snake! Now that is a situation that would include poop cause you know that everyone is going to say $*&# when they see that snake...and as Bill Cosby always says..."First you say it...then you do it." LOL! Love your blog!
**We visited NYC last July and I would have totally freaked out on the subway when it was stopped...20 minutes would have felt like 8 hours!
I'll make sure to start carring a snake so that I can make all events more interesting to the younger set.
Oh god, i just got nervous reading your post. I was once stuck on the subway, in complete darkness. I was pretty sure that was the end.
Okay, I'm not sure which would freak me out more: someone pooping on the subway...or someone doing that nose thing you described.
Both at the same time, however, would be cool.
XO
A.
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